


This is Not How You Play Beach Volleyball

by somanyopentabs



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Banter, Bruce is still a scientist, Clint is still in love with his bow and arrows, Dating, Flirting, Fluff, Humor, M/M, also kind of ridiculous but i like it anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 09:15:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyopentabs/pseuds/somanyopentabs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce is a biologist, Clint is an archer--they don't have much in common, but Clint's completely smitten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is Not How You Play Beach Volleyball

“Clint Barton,” Bruce declared, “if you expect me to agree that taking me to an archery range on our first date was acceptable, then you can certainly put up with a little trip to the seashore for our second, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, but—“ Clint paused for a moment as he regarded the look Bruce was giving him and decided to go ahead with his train of thought anyway. “When you said we were going to the beach, I thought, you know, a little swimming, a little sunbathing...maybe a little sneaking off to somewhere more private...”

“Oh, so now you’re advocating privacy? Now that you’re not feeling me up on the archery range in front of a dozen other people.”

“I was helping you with your form. _Helping_ ,” Clint argued, even as his face flushed pink.

“And of course, you prefer the hands-on approach...”

“Hey, I’ll have you know, I’m very good with my hands. If you’d ever let me demonstrate.” Clint was definitely not, and under no circumstances, pouting at all. Not even a little bit.

“You know what, that’s not a bad idea,” Bruce said thoughtfully.

“Exactly. I mean—wait, really?”

“Sure. Here, hold this.” Bruce pointedly shoved his backpack into Clint’s hands so he could rummage around in it.

“I think you enjoy teasing me,” Clint said fake-mournfully.

Bruce dug out things from his backpack that were not at all proper beach accessories, in Clint’s mind. They were not a Frisbee or a volleyball or even a towel.

“What is all that?” Clint asked.

“Jars and tools for collecting specimens, of course.”

“There should be some sort of rule against combining work and dating.”

“Two words.” Bruce counted them off on two fingers. “Archery. Range.”

“But archery is also a hobby! It’s fun! You can’t reasonably tell me that you do science for fun.”

Bruce gave him a look that made Clint want to go to his knees and beg for forgiveness. And was that Clint’s imagination, or did Bruce’s eyes just flash green?

“I didn’t really mean that,” Clint pleaded as Bruce turned and walked in the other direction. “This could be fun. C’mon, show me something cool.”

Bruce crouched near a tide pool, poised with a small net and a jar. “Be patient, then.”

“Sure, no problem. Patience is practically my middle name.” Clint joined Bruce and peered down into the water. “So what are we looking for? Sharks?”

“Really? In a tide pool, Clint?”

“...Baby sharks?”

“Baby sharks are called shark pups, and no. Just wait.”

Clint watched as Bruce dipped his net into the water and it emerged with a starfish. Bruce gently contained it in the small jar and held it out for Clint to see.

“What kind is it?” Clint asked, watching as the small creature settled in its temporary habitat.

“An ochre sea star, I believe.”

“Huh. That is actually pretty cool.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “I’m so glad to have your blessing for my life choices.”

“Hey, don’t be like that. I _do_ think it’s cool. Just because I don’t understand everything doesn’t mean I’m not interested.”

“We can still do a typical date later, if you want. Dinner and a movie?”

“Nah.” Clint reached out for the jar and Bruce put it carefully into his hand so he could take a closer look. “Typical is boring, anyway. I’d rather be here with you. You look good when you’re concentrating and explaining stuff.”

And Bruce did look good, quite in his element, as it were; his loose black curls blowing in the slight breeze, his profile framed by the blue background of the sea.

“Oh, well...” Bruce was clearly pleased. “Let’s put this little creature back, shall we? I’ll show you some crustaceans, if they don’t scurry away too quickly.”


End file.
